


The Silent Hum of The Night

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [237]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Deucalion (Teen Wolf), Child Stiles Stilinski, Deucalion (Teen Wolf) is Not Blind, Good Deucalion (Teen Wolf), Implied/Referenced Animal Abuse, M/M, Married Sheriff Stilinski/Deucalion, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 00:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Deucalion had known that loving a human was a risky affair, since human bodies could only take so much damage before they broke beyond repair, he’d known this while he gave his heart to a human. He loved the man who capture his heart, enough so to marry the man, and start a family with him. Still, the reminder that his husband did not heal as he did, that infections and bullets could take him so easily, was not needed and yet Deucalion had been reminded of this fact fairly recently.





	The Silent Hum of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> So, let’s just all take it easy and huddle up close to the fire, and maybe, just maybe the monsters will leave us alone. 
> 
> Everyone says that insomnia and my allergy meds bring the worst in me, and I have to agree since the combination made me forget to post the early August round of 15Minutes, but here we are and I hope I manage to do it this time. I’d rather avoid another panicked call from my dearest ItAlmostWorked!.
> 
> Alrighty my bravest of individuals who have stumbled on this story, if you are familiar with the series this story is bound too, then hop along after my dog for he will take you to A Slight Change, while the rest of you can pet and play with my cats while I try and explain what this series is and so on. So, let’s get started! This series is a small payment to my friends (6 dragons of fierce nature) who give me their wishes for a story and I attempt to write something to their liking, I’ve got 15Minutes to write a story, no more than that. Due to the restrictive time-limit I feel a need to warn you that the stories here aren’t grand, and there are many annoying mistakes to be found. So, if you can’t handle bad grammar and typos which are attached to a bad story, leave now and be at peace. Anyways, to all you who are still willing to read my story, please follow me down to A Slight Change.
> 
> A SLIGHT CHANGE in this round of stories is the introduction of a theme, this story is stuck with the theme Deucalion (don’t question it, I’ve already done that), and my dearest ReadingIsLikeWellDry wished for something with Deucalion and the Sheriff as a couple, Injured or Hurt Sheriff, two dogs and maybe a cat, a mention of Auntie Claudia who is the nice aunt, and bad auntie Kali, a little kid Stiles who is the light of Deucalion’s life, and if possible a mention of a trans character. I gave it a go and so this happened. 
> 
> So, Hi, I'm just going to say that I'm sorry I didn't finish my August 15Minutes posting-parade last week, but my brain screwed me over and the rest of the week was just chaotic, but hopefully I'll get the job done this week. Now, I shall wish you the best and hope you will have the most wonderful day and a great and cheerful end to September, and may October bring you great things and wonderful fun.

Startling awake from his deep slumber Deucalion is immediately wide awake and on high-alert, scanning the darkness for any possible fiends that might be the reason for the sudden end of a truly pleasant dream**. **Ears sharp and listening for any sounds that might indicate that there was some threat against him and his pleasantly small family, Deucalion readied his mind and body for the possibility of having to protect those he loved the most.

`Wha? ´ John mumbles, awakened no doubt by Deucalion none too gentle movements as the werewolf snapped awake from his slumber. Turning on the bedside lamp and seeing no doubt the slightly tense appearance of his husband, John proceeds to ask, `What’s going on? What’s wrong? ´ 

Satisfied that there were no unwelcomed visitors outside their house, or some trespassing fool sneaking about the first-floor of the house John and Deucalion had called their home for many years now, Deucalion focuses on finding quiet steps moving up the stairs or down the hall, but there are none. The house is silent and free of possible threats towards himself, his husband and their son, a son who by the sound of gentle footfalls and hushed whispers wasn’t sound asleep in his bed.

Hearing the soft rustle of pages being turned, Deucalion breathes out the breath he had been holding.

His husband and son remained safe, and all Deucalion would have to do is try and get a small child back to bed which would be a less taxing of a job as trying to wash away blood.

`Our son, ´ Deucalion sighs, while already getting out of the bed he shared with his husband of seven-years now, but they’d had been together for fifteen-years and parents for four, `is up. ´

A groan leaves John then, and not for the first-time does the father of their son question whether or not their child was indeed human, after all Mieczyslaw or as their son liked to be called Stiles was overly energetic most days and even most nights.

`Unless you or Claudia have something to tell me, I’d say yes Mieczyslaw is human. ´ Deucalion mumbles while pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Deucalion couldn’t deny that at times he wished his son hadn’t been born human, especially when the flu season came and made his child miserable, and back when his baby boy broke his arm Deucalion had cursed the slowness of human healing.; however. most days he was perfectly content and happy with his son being human, and admittedly having a human child ensured that Deucalion and John didn’t have to worry about werewolf-powered temper-tantrums that would leave furniture and clothes damaged.

Of course, there were many challenges when it came to raising a human child too, but in Deucalion’s minds mind the price of raising a human-boy was well-worth it, and he would forever be grateful to Claudia for the gift she’d given them. When Claudia had offered to help them become parents, they’d been so grateful and touched by her offer and still were to this day, certainly some individuals liked to question him especially whether or not he regretted having to try and raise a little boy who was so full of curiosity, a little boy who admittedly constantly kept Deucalion on his toes.

`Oh, we’re humans. Painfully so. ´ John responds, pointing at his still healing shoulder which was these days a constant reminder to Deucalion of the dangers of John’s profession and how easily John’s job could leave him to raise their son on his own; the thought of losing John, having but a grave to visit and talk too, caused that terrible and invisible hand to squeeze the air out of his lunges and still his heart.

Even now, with John sitting there in their bed, alive, the chill of fear and worry spreads through his whole body.

`Still not funny John. ´ Deucalion spits out, not appreciating for a second John’s barely awake sense of humour.

Deucalion would never forget the horrible sensation that washed over him when Deputy Davis appeared in the middle of his lecture, a feeling that took hold of him long before the older-male could tell him what had happened Deucalion’s mind had already connected the dots; but what Deucalion hadn’t known when Davis appeared in the doorway was whether or not John was already dead or dying, and that sort of experience wasn’t one you simply forgot or got over once everything turned out fine, or as fine as things could be after your husband took a goddamn bullet in the shoulder and had to have surgery to remove it, and hours upon hours of physiotherapy to ensure there would be no permanent damage.

Deucalion would _never _forget the thoughts that accompanied that terrible feeling of dread, thoughts and feelings that tormented him well past the long drive to the hospital. The fear he’d felt as a grim-faced doctor came to him after the horrendously long wait for some news on how John was or wasn’t, that fear that made him both dumb and irrational had been so great in its terrible power that Deucalion could never imagine himself experience again unless John got injured on the job again.

The whole experience that hadn’t ended with Deucalion having to explain to their son why daddy wasn’t going to be around anymore, or crying himself to sleep in a bed far too empty and big for just one man, that experience that had given him a taste of what could have happened was now forever branded into Deucalion’s soul.

The fact that Deucalion had asked John to take the bite days after John was finally allowed to leave the hospital, should’ve been enough to tell John exactly how much the whole ordeal had shaken him, and if not then all the hours spent talking about it since John came home should’ve made it clear that John being shot would never be funny to his husband.

But apparently, not fully awake John Stilinski had the mental capacity of a slug drowning in beer.

`That will _never_ be funny to me, John. ´ Deucalion growls, bright crimson seeping into his eyes while pointing at John’s shoulder. It takes all of his self-control not to slam the bedroom door behind him as he exits the bedroom, the last thing he wants is to startle Mieczyslaw, and it’s only because of his want not to cause his son any unnecessary distress that Deucalion is able to regain control of himself.

Deucalion does his best to appear fine and dandy before gently pushing the door left ajar hours ago, opening the door just enough for him to slip inside the smaller bedroom, and he is not all that surprised to find that his son was not in bed but rather on the floor, not sitting but rather laying there on his small stomach, the bright light of Mieczyslaw flashlight aids the very human set of eyes to see the various creatures of supernatural lineage and leanings that were committed to this peculiar planet they all called home; this carefully constructed of words and skilful drawings all suited best to young children, be it not as young as his son, each page of information designed to help educate the young of both human and none humans, this was one of the few books Deucalion was a great deal proud of writing.

Seeing his son, once more, enthralled by a book Mieczyslaw’s creation had inspired Deucalion to write, a book he’d gone as far as to dedicate to the child who had inspired Deucalion to write a book that no one had expected him to write, the sight warms his heart and pleases him greatly. Deucalion can’t help but smile a little at the sight of his son, wrapped up in his favourite blanket with two of their rescue dogs flanking his sides and listening avidly to the soft whispers of their favourite human.

Molly their beautiful grey Pitbull, every inch of her none-delicate body covered in scars that spoke of a painful past, had been found by John by sheer luck and John’s unwillingness to risk missing saving a life, be it the life of a human or an injured dog; admittedly John had doubted his ears, cursed himself even as he started to walk into the woods after stopping Mrs. Cooper and handing her another ticket for speeding, but once he heard clearly the whimpers of an injured dog nothing could’ve stopped from reaching the poor creature. It still amazed Deucalion how dogs like Molly, bodies torn to shreds and bones broken, could still forgive and love the were creatures that had treated them so unkindly, but he was also glad over the ability of dogs to love and forgive, for this gift had ensured his son had a loyal friend in dear Molly. 

Molly had pretty much been Mieczyslaw’s shadow from the very moment they’d introduced the dog with a body lined with scars and the wrinkly pink baby, and Deucalion had his suspicions that the only reason she allowed Oscar near her treasure was simply because he was of no threat to the little human or her standing as his protector.

Oscar could’ve looked very much like a dingo if the damage done to him hadn’t brought on a slight change to shape of his skull and body, and yet with the terrible abuse that left his head forever tilted to one side, Oscar possessed a nature so sweet and good it was truly baffling; the poor dog believed still that all humans were good, a stranger was but a friend not yet met, which often served to leave him a little bit heartbroken when his will to be friends wasn’t reciprocated. It was no great surprise to find Oscar with Molly and Mieczyslaw, after all the dog enjoyed the company of Molly as much as he enjoyed the company of the little human boy.

Although the sight of the two dogs, listening intently to the soft whispers of their young master, was indeed sweet the hour was both too late and too early for said child to be awake, and so Deucalion sighs out softly the name of his young son.

`Mieczyslaw. ´

The two dogs turn their attention towards him, as would be expected, but his son continues to pretend deaf and dumb when it comes to Deucalion’s presence in the room, but the delicate shoulders and the way his son shuts his mouth in pretence of focusing on the open book before him tells him just how determined his son was to pretend that his book was oh so fascinating.

`Mieczyslaw. ´ Deucalion says, voice still soft with love but the deliverance of the name given with love carrying a hint of parental authority.

His son, his little boy who looked nothing like him and very little like John, continued stubbornly to pretend unhearing and although Deucalion didn’t entirely like the nickname his son insisted upon being called, Deucalion still yields to the stubborn will of his young son.

`Stiles. ´ and at that Stiles turns his pretty little face towards him, a faux look of innocence appearing on his sweet face, and liquid amber eyes all doe-like which was no doubt why many underestimated his young son. 

`What are you doing out of bed? ´ Deucalion asks while slowly making his way to where his son now sat, picking-up the large book and placing it on his small lap. Oh, yes, he can see the clever little mind of his son working and Deucalion waits almost eagerly to see what excuse will be given to him; will it be a lie or a truth shaped with carefully sculptured reasoning, his son could at times be a slippery with his mind and tongue as the likes of Peter Hale.

`It’s moning. ´ is the answer his son gives him, and Deucalion glances at the cat-shaped clock, and there is no denying that one could argue the hour this to be the hour of early dawn. 

`It’s three in the morning, Stiles. ´ Deucalion can agree this much, and it does appear to please his son and also give him a false sense of hope and victory.

`However, my darling light, ´ Deucalion continues before his son can make himself too comfortable in his sense of success, `little boys like you should still be sleeping and dreaming dreams of great adventures and lovely things. ´

His son is clearly unimpressed, and goes on to insist it is still morning while turning the page of his book.

`That might be, ´ Deucalion chuckles before scooping his son up and off the floor, kissing the top of the clever little head, ignoring the unhappy that leaves his child as the book slips out of the little hands and hits the floor.

`Did you sleep for six-hours? Or eight? ´ Deucalion asks his son, and turns towards the clock on the wall, allowing his bright boy to count the hours that had passed since put into bed the third-time.

Reluctantly his son answers, `No. ´

`Then you should still be sleeping. ´ Deucalion tells his son, moving towards the small bed where the one-eyed black cat Mieczyslaw had found in their backyard five-months previously, the cat had been in a pretty bad shape with both eyes badly infected. The cat had only recently stopped hissing at Deucalion, and it had taken a lot of chicken and turkey treats for Deucalion win over the cat just enough for it to stop attacking him anytime he went near Mieczyslaw. 

`But I’m not sleepy. ´ Mieczyslaw argues softly while allowing Deucalion to tuck him in, the back cat moving to snuggle up next to Stiles side, purring immediately. The cat clearly desperate to go back to sleep. 

`Well, Pirate, is sleepy and you know he can’t sleep without you. ´ Deucalion tells his son, gently combing his fingers through the thick hair that was in need of a good trim. `You keep his bad dreams away, so be a good boy and just lay here with Pirate for a little while longer. ´

Glancing over at the purring cat that had clearly picked his son as its human, Mieczyslaw sighs defeatedly, `Fine. ´

`That’s my gentle heart. ´ Deucalion hums softly before kissing the pale forehead of his son, he sits there on the edge of the bed, combing his fingers soothing through Mieczyslaw’s hair until he thinks his son has fallen asleep once more; but as soon as his at the door, whispering for the dogs to watch over Mieczyslaw, his son suddenly speaks be it in the shape of a sleepy mumble.

`You not sad that I’m not youls the same way I’m daddies? ´

The question stills his heart, but his answer is delivered none the less immediately.

`Never ever. ´ and he has never regretted John fathering their son. How on earth could he ever regret Mieczyslaw being by blood related to the man he loved the most? Frankly, after John was shot in the line of duty had made him of the fact that if anything were to happen** to **John then at least he would still have a part of John left, at least with Mieczyslaw John would never be truly gone.

`But auntie Kali…´ his son whispers almost miserable, and to say that if Deucalion had the ability express his wrath in the same way Hades in the Disney Movie Hercules did, well the room would’ve been lit up with his hair flaming-up, but the only way he can express his anger is the low growl deep within his chest and the brief flash of red in his eyes.

`Now you listen to your father, Stiles, ´ Deucalion says, voice firm and unyielding while moving towards the bed of his son.

`Kali was just being a big meanie, ´ there were far less gentler words that wished to spill from his thinly drawn lips, but those words would not suite for young ears to hear, `and she should never have said what she did to you. Never. ´

When he’d heard Kali speak those unkind, untrue words, that claimed that he wasn’t perfectly happy with the child that was his and John’s son, Deucalion had been angered to the point where he broke both of Kali’s arms and knees hours after Mieczyslaw’s birthday party was over and done. He’d gone as far as to whisper a painful death into her ear if she ever dared to speak another unkind word to his son, or about his son, and the threat had been as true as his love for his child was strong.

Mieczyslaw doesn’t appear satisfied with his answer, doubt sneaking into his young mind like a dreadful poison.

Settles down on the edge of the bed, and with gentle hand he guides his son to look at him before he speaks again.

`Stiles, have I ever told you that it was my choice to have daddy be the one to make you? ´ and that was the truth, he’d made that choice and refused to play a game of chance with who it would be that fathered their son.

His son looks genuinely surprised by this small fact, and as Deucalion continues softly, `We could’ve just left it up to chance, but I wanted your daddy to be the one who made you with Auntie Claudia. I wanted it more than you will ever know, sweet child of mine. ´

`Why? ´ his son asks, almost as if he’s a little bit afraid of the answer, and that will not do.

Leaning down to hopefully kiss away the worries from an overly active mind, Deucalion tells his son the one and only reason for his stubborn decision.

`Because I couldn’t imagine having a baby that wasn’t your daddies. I wanted our baby boy…´

`I could’ve been a gil. ´ his son of course has to point out that he could’ve been a girl back then before the image on a small screen showed of a little boy, a little boy who had looked properly disgruntled by his surroundings; Deucalion had laughed back then that the baby would be in a hurry to be born, since he clearly wasn’t entertained enough inside of Claudia, never thinking that he was right in more ways than one.

Smiling fondly down at his son, Deucalion agrees easily enough, `you could’ve been a girl, yes. You could’ve also been a boy born in a body that wasn’t quite right, or a girl born in the body of a little boy. ´

`Like Mark. ´ his good son points out, gently petting his cat, and Deucalion absolutely loved the fact that his son hadn’t seen it has anything strange that his babysitter went from being Mary to Mark, and was more than a little insulted that his parents were worried that he might not be fine with Mark babysitting him. The acceptance and support Mieczyslaw had shown Mark had meant the world to the young lad, which was most likely why Mark hadn’t taken the money Deucalion had offered him after all the extra babysitting hours were needed when John was in the hospital.

`Like Mark. ´ Deucalion says softly, feeling immensely proud of the child he and John had raised.

`And Shannon, ´ his son points out before yawning, earning himself a small and truly fond chuckle from his father.

Certainly, Deucalion had been mortified back when his son had figured out that the woman running the animal shelter hadn’t always had the courage to be her true-self, but the way his son had embraced this person as just another individual who deserved respect and kindness as all living beings did, that feeling that had struck Deucalion faded and was replaced with the feeling of a proud father. 

`Like Shannon. ´ Deucalion agrees with his son, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Sure, Deucalion had turned red-faced and apologetic when his kid had said there was nothing wrong with going from being a boy to a girl, after all, people had nose jobs, then pointing out that mother of one of the other children at the day care had her whole face done and her boobs, and no one thinks that’s strange so why should it be strange that Shannon became Shannon?

Cautiously, unsure of whether or not he wanted to hear the answer or not to the question he speaks, Mieczyslaw asks softly, `You and daddy would love me if I wanted to be a girl? ´

`No matter what, we will love you forever and always, gentle heart, forever and always. ´ Deucalion promises his son with the ease of unwavering love. He waits silently until Mieczyslaw’s heartbeat settles down to a sleepy beat, until his breathes are soft and sweet with sleep. He kisses the brow of his son softly, wishing him sweet dreams and good rest before standing-up once more and making his way out of the small bedroom where a little boy was watched over by two faithful hounds.

Deucalion thinks briefly back to the time before his son was conceived and planted in Claudia, he thinks back to the moment he’d made the decision that he didn’t want to play a game of chance when it came to their child, not when his heart was already set on having John’s child. Certainly, he would’ve loved their child even if it had turned out that it was his genetic-make-up that had helped create their child, but even now he does think and feel a small part of him would’ve been saddened that the child wasn’t John’s.

`I’m sorry. ´ are the first-words his husband says to him as he enters their bedroom, sitting there looking genuinely miserable.

`For what? ´ Deucalion enquires, undressing himself.

`For making a piss-poor excuse of a joke. ´ his husband responds immediately, `I know that if our son or you got seriously injured, I wouldn’t find it funny if you or Stiles’ made a joke about it. ´

Moving over to sit next to his remorseful husband, Deucalion gently takes John’s hand in his, giving it a light squeeze as he informs the man he loves to the moon and back that all was forgiven.

`Then why do you look so – upset? ´ John just has to ask.

`Kali’s big mouth came back to haunt our son. ´ Deucalion confesses, causing his husband to curse Kali to hell and back.

`You know, if you want…´ John starts after a moment of festering silence during which allowed them to privately fantasies of ways to punish Kali for her cruel word.

`No. No. No. ´ Deucalion says swiftly, `Unless you want another child, and are willing to try and convince me having two will somehow make our family better than it already is, then I do not even want to hear you suggesting us having another baby. ´

The look of surprise on John’s face shouldn’t be there, after all they’d both wanted to have a child, one child not two or three or five. Neither one had felt like they could handle being parents to more than one child and their jobs, they’d long before Mieczyslaw was born talked about having one child and no more.

`What? Why are you looking at me like that? ´ Deucalion finally relents and asks.

`I – I just thought maybe you’d want us to have a baby who was part of you. ´ John whispers as if afraid of his own words and the implications they carried.

`Well, you thought wrong. ´ Deucalion informs his husband, `If you wanted another child, I’d once more just insist on you fathering the little life. ´

`Why? Why don’t you want a child that will take after you.? ´

Looking into the perplexed eyes of his husband, Deucalion can’t help but smile lovingly at his silly husband.

`It just doesn’t feel that important to me. ´ he confesses, reaching up to gently cup the cheek he’d once punched during a moment of confusion where’ he’d been terrified that John was just another hunter sent to kill him, `You are always what’s important to me, and making sure you will continue on in our child felt important to me back in the day before our son came to be. ´

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD, what if Deucalion and Talia are friends enough that they have little get together and so Stiles and Derek hangout, and because alpha Deucalion once said (years ago) to him, `I trust you with my son, Derek. ´ and Derek takes his job as Stiles’ protector very seriously, like he’ll watch after Stiles like a bodyguard, even at school he’ll be there like a shadow even if he’s a few-years older than Stiles, and everyone thinks it’s so cute, even Deucalion and John, since no one really thinks anything will ever happen between these two… 
> 
> Derek dates Paige for a little while, but they end-up breaking-up and a few rumours start soon after that around school that he’s gay and that’s why it didn’t work (gay for Stilinski), and so it’s easy for Kate to get her claws into him. BUT! But, ever watchful Stiles sniffs out Derek’s secret, and after telling him that there’s something wrong about dating a person who wants you not to tell your parents or friends that you are dating them, Derek agrees to talk to an adult about this; choosing John and Deucalion since he thinks they’ll be less hysterical about the matter, but, well, no.  
John goes into full Sheriff’s mode in seconds, because, well, statutory rape is a serious thing, and when it happens between a student and a substitute teacher well fuck that shit. Deucalion is a bit calmer, even if he later has a serious talk with his own kid about bad adults. During the investigation of Kate, they find enough proof about her future plans for the Hale’s that well, Derek knows for sure he’s been used and he might feel like a failure Stiles still sees him as awesome-Derek and does his best to drag him out of his funk.


End file.
